Friday night starts out the same way it did two weeks ago. I leave the fitness center with my gym bag in one hand and my phone in the other. There are three unread messages from Sean waiting for me.
I read them and groan. He really, really needs to talk to me. Crap.
Somehow I’ve successfully managed to avoid seeing him for two weeks. Sex with Dean has served as a great distraction, but tonight I don’t have that luxury. Dean is still at the rink for the Hurricanes game and he has plans with his friend Beau afterward.
I need to decide what to do about Sean. Do I want to talk to him? Is there a point? I’m starting to think our previous breakups didn’t stick because we tried to remain friends afterward. That’s just a bad idea all around. You can’t be friends with an ex, at least not right away. Megan insists that a six-month no-contact period is required before you can even consider it.
Not that Megan is a relationship expert. Last I talked to her, she was still seeing the thirty-seven-year-old doctor but keeps making up excuses for why she can’t meet his daughter. If she can’t communicate with him about her fears and concerns, how is that a recipe for a healthy relationship?
But I should be focusing on my own love life right now. Well, ex love life, because I don’t love Sean McCall anymore. It’s scary how quickly it took for my feelings to fade.
My mother used to say that time heals all wounds. That’s definitely true. The year after she died, just picturing her face would trigger a rush of gut-wrenching pain. Now when I think about her, it still hurts, but in a duller, bittersweet way. I miss her, but I don’t feel the urge to curl up in a ball and cry the day away.
But that’s grief. I thought love would take longer to fade, which makes me wonder if maybe the process had begun long before Sean and I broke up. Maybe I fell out of love with him earlier and hadn’t realized it.
And maybe coffee isn’t a terrible idea. I guess I can use it as an opportunity to gauge how my heart responds in his presence.
I’m still debating as I walk up the stairs to the dorm. Bristol House only has four floors, so there’s no elevator, just four flights I have to climb while carting my gym bag.
I exit the stairwell into the hall and freeze when I spot Sean sitting in front of my door.
Once again, he’s taken the decision out of my hands.
His head is bent over his phone, but it snaps up at the sound of my footsteps. Then he’s on his feet, walking toward me.
My heart does respond, but not in the way I expected. Sean looks exactly the same—dark hair sticking out the sides of a backward Red Sox cap, deep brown eyes, clean-shaven face. Shouldn’t the sight of the boy I spent three years with make my heart ache?
But all I feel is annoyance.
“Don’t be mad,” he blurts out instead of saying hello. He’s obviously picked up on my displeasure. “I know I shouldn’t have shown up unannounced.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because you’re not answering any of my texts.” He shakes his head angrily. “We were together almost four years, Allie. You can’t even spare five minutes to talk to me?”
“I didn’t have anything to say.” I unlock my door and dump my bag in the hall. When Sean tries to follow me inside, I frown and grip the edge of the door to deny him entrance.
He scowls. “What, I’m not allowed to come in now?”
“There’s no reason for you to come in. Say whatever you need to say, Sean.”
“I’m not doing it out in the hall where the entire floor can hear me.”
I draw a deep breath. I don’t know why I’m being so harsh right now. Maybe because seeing him just reminds me of the fight that led to our breakup. All the unfair, insensitive, cruel words he’d hurled my way.
I force myself to exhale. I’m probably being extra snippy because this evening’s rehearsal sucked again. My breakneck pace on the treadmill hadn’t helped either.
“Look, I desperately need a shower, so why don’t I meet you at the Coffee Hut in thirty minutes? We can talk there.”
I can tell he’s still upset I won’t let him in, but he nods. “Fine. I could use a caffeine fix, I guess.”
I nod back. “I’ll be there soon.” Then I close the door and lean against it for a few seconds. Shit, I don’t think I want to have this conversation, whatever it is.
I wish Hannah were here so I could get her advice on how to handle this, but she’s at rehearsal. With her showcase coming up, I doubt I’ll be seeing much of her until the performance is out of her hair.